


From All Sides

by arabelladances



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Romance, F/M, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Mentioned Lando Calrissian, Original Character(s), Possessive Kylo Ren, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Protective Kylo Ren, Slow Burn, Sneaking Around, Space Battles, The Dark Side of the Force (Star Wars), Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabelladances/pseuds/arabelladances
Summary: Polara Calrissian has one sole mission in life: to destroy her father and end his legacy. The road to victory is never an easy one, but she will do what it takes to ensure she is victorious. With the help of The First Order she will seize control of Cloud City's most precious resource, get back at the despicable Lando Calrissian, and write her own history. Follow Polara as she takes the path to The Dark Side, and to Commander Kylo Ren.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Only

Screaming. There was a lot of screaming and the sound of it pounded relentlessly against eight-year-old Polara's ears. The only thing that she could see was smoke and red sky. What was normally soft and comforting to her had been replaced with the poisonous touch of greed. She was in her home of Cloud City, but not in the Cloud City that everyone else came to know. Sure there were luxurious buildings and dwellings, there were beautiful people and even more beautiful sights to see. But if you looked deeper, if you looked beyond the charm and the glitz of the gambling and tourism, you'd discover the true grit. The working class of Bespin inhabited some of the outer regions. Those who worked tirelessly to mine Tibanna gas, to make sure things were running as they should across the galaxy. The sky they lived under was far from a tourist attraction, one you wouldn't be admiring from a cloud car.  
Polara looked down at her body, gawking at the blood on her unsteady hands. Her heart was thumping against her chest, her lungs burning and her eyes watering from the sting of the billowing smoke. The way it cast throughout the village made this all seem even more surreal to her. She and her friends had been racing one another around the clouds just minutes before, carefree and innocent. Now they were all hiding, the four children barely shielded by a piece of scrap metal. Someone had come to attack them, to finish off every inhabitant they could. It was evident by the number of bodies now lying around the clouds. They were there to take control of the gas mine nearby. The very mine that the villagers dedicated their life work to, that provided them with all they'd needed to build their coveted home.  
Polara shut her eyes, squeezing them as hard as possible as if shielding the grey orbs would make it all disappear. Perhaps if she shut them hard enough the calm would come again. Or perhaps she could will someone to stop the destruction around her. Will someone to save her village, for someone to save her. A sudden pressure fell down upon her and she yelped in surprise, opening her eyes to see the scrap metal serving as their shelter fly away. There was someone standing there, blaster drawn with a crazed look in their eye. Before there was time to react, the man pointed his blaster and began to fire. The sounds were sharp and loud, causing the young girl to scream. Polara looked to her left and watched as one of her friends was left lifeless by a blaster shot to the chest. The flickering light from the shot reflected in her eyes and the light in the eyes of the boy seemed to dim. The sight was enough to send a shock through her, to force her into running. She scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Strands of her wild purple curls stuck to her face as she made her escape, blinding her vision so that she couldn't see the form of a man standing in her line of flight. She crashed into him hard and fell backward onto the dirt. It stung her hands, but her chest burned even worse. The fear was clutching her ribcage and squeezing with all of its might. One hand reached up to wipe the tears and dust from her eyes, spreading it across her freckled face so she could lay eyes upon her roadblock.  
It was Lando Calrissian. He stood strong, dark eyes scanning over the chaos before him. Polara felt her chest ache with something else: hope. He'd come to save the day, he'd come to rescue her village and all of its people. He'd come to rescue her. In her deepest dreams, she always hoped he would. That's what fathers do.  
Although she carried his blood in her veins, Polara wasn't sure if he even knew of her. Her mother had told her the story. How she'd loved him but couldn't hold onto him. How she had moved on and learned to love again once their daughter was born. Polara was told never to speak of it, not to anyone. Besides, if she had would anyone even believe her?  
Lando stared down at her, a perplexed look on his face. His eyes glanced at the children by the scrap metal, and back down at her. The man with the blaster made his way toward Lando, arm outstretched, and ready to fire. The man took his shot, but it wasn't aimed at the Baron Administrator.  
Polara felt a searing streak of pain against her skin. She clutched at her abdomen, trying desperately to cease the pain. It burned, it smoldered and it ached. She was gasping for breath, staring up at smoke shielded figures that she couldn't see clearly. Through her blurred vision, she could see a tussle, neither figure taking a tangible form to her. The victor stood over her body as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Her fingers were still pressed to the wound as she peacefully spun out of her own being. She could see her own body lying there, could finally make out the person as they walked away. Lando's cape whipped around as he walked away and left her slowly spiraling -- until another flash of searing pain hit her.  
Polara gasped, bolting as she sat up straight. Her mind was ablaze with confusion and distress as she looked around for any indication of where she was. Metal, control panels, a dark galaxy sky beyond the windows. It was a ship. A ship where nearly every creature on board was staring at her. Her grey eyes glanced down at her stomach, lingering for only a few moments. That's all it took for her to realize she wasn't eight anymore, and her wound had long since healed. Her realization may have come to her slowly, but she'd gathered her wits quickly afterward. "Well," she called out with a tone of steel. Her eyes grew cold as they darted across the room at the faces around her. "Get back to entertaining yourselves."  
Creatures of all kinds went back to their business. Some were playing a game of Dejarik, others were chatting amongst themselves. She'd taken notice of one who hadn't yet taken his eyes off of her. This was nothing more than transport for wanderers and scoundrels. In fact, Polara was sure some of the passengers were wanted by Mandalorians. This man was no exception and his lingering interest in her went purposefully ignored.  
Polara rose to her feet, brushing back some of the purple coils that had fallen into her face during her slumber. Her brow was damp with sweat, making strands of her hair cling to it desperately. She silently cursed herself for falling asleep. It had been a while since she'd properly rested. The nightmares always seemed to clutch any hope she had of sleeping peacefully, making proper rest unattainable.  
As she stood, her black dress fell into place around her body. She liked that most of her skin was covered by the dark fabric, it was some sort of cloth comfort. The sleeves were long, and bell-shaped at the end, fingertips barely visible under them. The lower half flowed gently from the waist and down to her calves. A small slit crept up along the side but didn't reveal much. Polara had made the dress herself in preparation for her trip to Ilum. She'd heard it was cold there. She'd heard that the First Order was there, too, and that's where she was headed.  
With a confident stride, her black boots took her toward the refresher. She stood inside, taking a moment to breathe in deeply and recollect her thoughts. To chase away any images of the man in her nightmares. Lando. He wasn't a father. He was a glorified sperm donor. Sure he'd given Polara life, but he didn't protect it. Not when she needed it most, and not now. Never.  
It was a sobering thought, one that she needed. It kept her focused. Reminding herself that she was alone, that she was responsible for her destiny, gave her the confidence to push through and complete her travel to Starkiller Base. She had a mission to complete and there was no stopping her. When she arrived she'd talk her way to the top, whoever that was. She had much to offer them. A supply of a resource they'd need and a near-perfect path to get it to the base. She'd need a crew, of course, a pilot, but she could lead the way to a vast amount of the power source they needed. With what she had to offer, she knew they wouldn't be able to deny her.  
With another deep breath and a final recollection of her focus, Polara exited the refresher. Standing nearby was the man who had been watching her. It was clear he'd been eyeing the door since she'd entered. He'd remained glued to it, and now to her, as she crossed the ship back to her seat. The man's arms were crossed, face half-covered by his hood. She could only see the lower half of his face. His jawline, scruffy and battered looking. Strong, but underwhelming to her. Being gawked at didn't leave her feeling unnerved, though she was certain that's what he was hoping for. He wanted to intimidate her. Instead, she felt the heat of annoyance starting to bubble in her blood. When she took her seat Polara stared straight ahead, giving no one the time of day. Especially not the one person who was demanding it. The stars of the galaxy were far more interesting, even if they all looked exactly the same. Her attention never broke, not even when the hooded man strolled his way toward her.  
He stood next to her, leaning against the ship's interior with his shoulder. His arms remained crossed over his chest. The action increased the heat of her annoyance tenfold, but she remained stone-faced and unbothered by it. He was still silently demanding she pay attention to him and as the minutes went by Polara grew angrier and angrier. The very presence of this man was starting to make her ill. Her fingers began to curl into fists, wrists straight and tense.  
"What's your business in Ilum?" he asked casually, breaking her quiet buildup of rage. The question was nearly enough to send her brain into a frenzy. She could feel neurons firing left and right. Luckily for him, she had resolved to take the high road. To give him the silent treatment so he wouldn't act as a distraction from her goal of getting to Starkiller Base to start smuggling resources for the First Order.  
The man scoffed when he received no answer from Polara. His arms unfolded and he bent his knees, letting one rest on the ground so he could remain level with her face. He reached out and took the fabric of her sleeve between two fingers, letting it slip through them and drop. "The First Order will eat you alive, girl. Commander Ren will have your head on his lightsaber."  
As she felt her blood pressure begin to skyrocket, she also felt the unmistakable rumbling of a landing ship. Leaving the man unanswered still, she brushed off her dress and stood yet again, confidence unwavering. The hooded man stood as well, leaning in toward her face. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. "Ought to be careful out there. Wouldn't want someone to find you alone. Helpless. Don't you need protection?"  
The hiss of his sentence was the tipping point. The sound slithered through her ear and sent a sickening chill down her spine. Before she could even stop herself, her hand was once again a fist, headed straight for the gut of the hooded man. It connected, right above the belt. The surprise of the hit left him defenseless and shocked him as he groaned loudly. Polara had once been told if you aim for an important organ, they'd never know what hit them. As he fell to his knees in front of her, Polara bent down. Her crimson lips were pursed and eyes narrow, tone sharp and pointed directly at him.  
"Alone and helpless?" she mused. "At least you'll know the feeling." As she paused her words she let her eyes scan over the man, allowing them to pick up any feature she could remember. If she ever saw him again, she'd have his head instead. "You know where to find the commander? Tell me." The man hesitated, still holding onto his abdomen, but the hesitation only fueled her. Her hand leaped forward and clutched the man's clothing. "Quickly."  
The doors of the ship opened up quickly and the tawny skinned woman walked out, gathering her thoughts yet again. Her mind lingered on the directions the hooded man had given her. The smirk on her face was growing, knowing she'd at least made it to Starkiller without getting lost. She had a job to do and there would be no distractions.


	2. Beggin' For Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara made it to Starkiller Base successfully. Next order of business: find out how to get _inside_ Starkiller Base successfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned on posting every Monday, but I'm feelin' generous. ;) Here's chapter two! Currently writing chapter 8/12. Lemme know what you think so far! 
> 
> Thank you for reading my story! Polara is a character dear to my heart and her story is SO important to me. To go along with this story, there's a playlist. Each chapter is named after a song that I believe goes perfectly with the content of said chapter. Think of the songs as "end credit" songs. Obviously, the first track on the list is an overarching theme. Thanks again! xo
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7E9JQUSEhzfBe04tHg3IZr?si=3d5bLgxJQaeEe6QB5oeW-g

The icy air of Ilum swirled leisurely, unforgiving as it swept through the entrance of Starkiller Base. When she'd heard the planet was cold, she expected to be chilled to her bones. That didn't really prepare her for how frigid it truly was. Though the wind whipped against her olive-brown skin, Polara fought hard not to show how it pained her. It stung the inside of her lungs with every inhale, and it made her lips feel as though they'd never have feeling in them again. Her fingertips felt like they were being pricked by the tiniest of needles even when she flexed them in an attempt to push the feeling away. None of it mattered to her, and it couldn't. Pain couldn't get in the way of her mission. It would only be a distraction and Polara needed constant focus. She'd already been standing at this structure's entrance for quite some time. First, she'd spoken with a stormtrooper who attempted to wave her away. But she was persistent. She'd expressed her urgency and matter of business to him until he'd given in -- and that only came after he'd unsuccessfully threatened her with his blaster. He'd called out to his captain through his communicator. A tall woman who was covered in armor that resembled the stormtrooper's appeared and he apologized for disturbing her. A captain. Finally, someone important to hear her out.  
"Our individuals are carefully trained. Raised from birth to be the warriors they have become. We don't accept volunteers." came the voice behind the polished chrome suit. It was stern, yet somehow still soft -- unimpressed. The tone of the voice only made Polara's patience begin to waver.  
"Look, I'm not volunteering to fight in your army. That's not what I've offered you." Polara's voice faltered slightly as she fought to remain calm. She knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with her ever-present defiant attitude. The way the stormtroopers stood silent and still, stood strong and with intent told her that much. Surely, for this one task, she could hold her anger back. "As I said, I have access to a supply of Tibanna gas the likes of which you could use here. Your hyperdrives, your weapons. Allow me to support the First Order by ensuring your forces are all well prepared for battle."  
Though she was quite proud of herself for managing to get the words out without cracking, her façade began to crumble as Captain Phasma remained uninterested. The same voice seeped from the helmet without a hint of consideration.  
"We don't accept volunteers."  
Polara felt her face begin to grow warmer despite the wind chill. The heat slowly crept up from her chest, tingling under her skin by the time it had arrived at her freckled cheeks. Her jaw clenched, fingers curling inward and threatening to leave half-moon impressions in her palm. Her eyes narrowed, grey spheres nearly disappearing behind the lids. This was not going how she'd intended. No, in fact, by now she'd expected to be in talks with the high ranking commander about how exactly she'd smuggle the gas from her home planet of Bespin. She'd be inside the warmth of the base and regaining the feeling in all of her appendages.  
Just as she felt her nostrils flare and as her mouth fell open to contest, Polara was suddenly stopped in her tracks. A sensation to rival her anger washed over her. A presence. A feeling that made her sense she was prey. Unlike the hooded man on the ship, this was unnerving and it seemed to have doused her fury with something else. Fear? She never let that feeling stay for long. Since she'd once faced death, she had nothing to fear.  
Polara spun, her dark violet curls whipping with her, mind ready to choose between fight or flight. But what she saw before her rendered her unable to choose between the two. A dark figure comparable to a steel wall stood behind her. A person. For a few moments, there was nothing inside of Polara's brain. She had nothing to say and certainly didn't know what her next move was. The being was quiet, masked. Solid. It appeared as if whoever was behind the barrier of black suspended her senses.  
Suddenly, like a flood gate had been opened up, Polara felt a rush of different emotions hit her in waves. The first wave was unease. Who was under the black garb, and why were they standing so fucking close? The next wave was pain. Her fingers began to sting once again, the cold threatening to rob them of all working ability. And then, she felt the anger creep up once again. It was quick to replace any feeling of uncertainty that had found its way inside of her.  
"Please," came the modulated voice. "Don't let me interrupt you. Tell us more about how you'd like to waste our time." The sentence alone was enough to further enrage Polara, but the bite of the vocoder was like salt rubbed into a wound. Is this what they did in the First Order? Berated and belittled those who pledged to them? Hid behind armor and masks? Deny anyone they didn't groom from birth?  
"And what a waste of time you'll be when you've been made obsolete by the lack of rare Tibanna gas that could power every ship you've got." Her tone was venom, spitting back at the black mass towering her. It felt good, like the release of a valve under far too much pressure. Polara's rush of endorphins was short-lived.  
Her eyes remained fixated upon the combat helmet, determined even as it tipped slightly to the side. There was a hint of a human aspect to the figure now. He was intrigued. He wasn't just a robot awaiting orders to terminate its target. A gloved hand, large and threatening, outstretched and stopped close to Polara's face. Leather bound fingertips were inches away from her face when she felt a fierce chill down her spine. Fear was the one feeling that she was good at combatting. She'd learned by now that if she replaced it with any other feeling, she'd always appear confident. She wouldn't know fear at all. This time though, replacing it with anything else wasn't working. It lingered.  
"Hmm," the black figure hummed softly. He was motionless, hand still reaching toward Polara. "You feel a deep need for the First Order." The statement stunned her, making her eyes grow wider. "You need to belong. You need..."  
As the rumbling voice trailed off, the outstretched hand wavered slightly. Polara closed her eyes as she felt a sudden rise in pressure on her skull. Her nose wrinkled, trying to fight off the feeling. She was convinced her brain would implode at any moment and leave a pink mess on the inside. But almost as quickly as it began, it came to a halt.  
Polara opened her eyes slowly, blinking through lashes to adjust her sight. Her ears rang as the hand before her curled into a fist and dropped, leaving her to figure out how to catch her breath. How long had she even been holding it? "Captain, escort her to interrogation. Perhaps she'll show me how she planned on getting resources and we can dispose of her."  
"Yes, commander Ren."

\--

Interrogation? It felt more like egregious torture. Self-indulgent, even. Polara was pinned by her wrists to a contraption that wasn't forgiving. It was cold, hard, and downright uncomfortable. Her black boots were resting on two platforms near the bottom, clearly designed to keep someone right where they were wanted. There wasn't anywhere to rest her head, her coils clung to any and every steel crevice behind her, and she knew if she moved at all it would only cause more discomfort. Instead of letting panic take over, Polara used her circumstances as fuel to build her strength. Or, at least make her appear stronger. But there was still something lingering in the back of her mind. The fear that still hadn't left.  
Commander Ren stood feet away, motionless, helmet facing straight ahead with no sign of breaking from its target. Polara stared back into the void that was the visor, now assuming behind it was some sort of trained muscle meant to torment others. She thought if she fought fire with fire they'd both go down in flames. Her stare didn't stammer even when the voice pierced the silence.  
"You aren't very good at control."  
"And what do you propose I control?" A brow perked as Polara responded. She couldn't deny that she was intrigued too.  
"Your emotions."  
As though he'd flipped a switch, she felt her blood begin to rush. That familiar feeling of warm, quiet rage began to pump through her veins, proving him right in an instant. _'What good would controlling myself do?'_ she thought.  
"I'm not going to answer that." the voice spoke. Though, she hadn't even asked anything aloud. He answered knowingly and she hadn't even posed the question. That lingering, uncomfortable feeling was reawakened by the realization. He could hear her. Her thoughts. He could sense her emotions. Her discomfort began to churn in her stomach and grow stronger. He'd been listening the entire time. Who knows what he'd already seen or heard inside of her head.  
"Everything," he answered again. "I sense your desperation. I sense your anger, your hatred." As the commander walked closer with dominant, confident strides, Polara examined him closely. He was powerful, that she now knew. But it wasn't him she was afraid of. She was afraid of what dwelled inside her own head.  
As she snapped out of the thought, her moments of weakness and fear were replaced by determination. This was her shot, she'd have to show the commander what she was capable of.  
"You can't even control them long enough to convince me you're useful." His tone was derisive. He was mocking her and Polara quickly caught on. If she allowed her distaste for it to enter her mind, he'd only prove himself right yet again.  
"Commander. You heard me out there. You'll be unstoppable, your weapons and your fleet, there will be no--"  
"It isn't about that, is it?" he asked. His gloved hands reached up and pressed into the helmet. There was a soft hiss, and pieces of it began to move. As he lifted the headpiece, Polara felt the slight twinge of fear tugging at her again. What was hiding under the armor?  
Raven hair fell all around a pale face. His expression revealed itself to be just as unapproachable as his helmet. As her eyes darted around to take everything in, she fought to keep her thoughts at bay.  
"You're not here to pledge allegiance to the First Order for the better of the galaxy. No," his face remained emotionless as he spoke. His lips moved, but his stare didn't. "You have an agenda. Your father. You'd like to see his downfall. You want to kill him yourself."  
For the first time since the interrogation began Polara attempted to move. Something about someone being so deep within her mind made her skin crawl. Her wrists writhed against their restraints and her toes pressed downward, pushing her boots into the metal below them. The more she fought thinking about Lando Calrissian, the harder it became to do. Her eyes squeezed shut with effort, willing him away from the forefront of her brain.  
"You see him sometimes when you look in the mirror. Your scar..." Polara's fists balled and her teeth clenched. The mere mention of her scar bought a lump to her throat. He was too deep inside of her brain too quickly, and it hurt. Her eyes were beginning to sting as he continued, her fear reaching levels they hadn't in years. The commander knew he'd had something when he saw her. An emotion-filled toy to play with, more vulnerable than she'd even realized. "You can't even look at it. There's something in you that it unleashes and you don't like it." By now, the commander's words collided with Polara's ear from just inches away. His tone was harsh, but his voice was hushed. It felt too intimate for Polara to handle. These were the thoughts that kept her awake at night, the thoughts that haunted her. He'd drilled down deep enough to hit the sorest spot. In an attempt to get him out of her mind, she snarled through clenched teeth.  
This made him smile. The first sign of any true emotion he'd shown since he was lurking behind her out at the entrance of the base. The half-hearted chuckle that came from him made that familiar angry heat rise again, straight from Polara's chest. He was right. She couldn't control her emotions. She certainly couldn't keep him from provoking them. In her revelation she relaxed, defeated. Her fingers were set free from her fists, and her toes given a break from their strained stance. So she couldn't control herself. Did that mean she wasn't an asset? "Let me help you. The First Order is my priority." Her grey eyes softened as they opened, earnest yet determined. Once they'd locked with the eyes of Commander Ren, she allowed herself to digest the warm amber color of them. They were speckled with bits of honey-colored flecks, lively with rich color. Yet there seemed to be no other liveliness behind them. She waited as they held the gaze, his face close to her own, and then Commander Ren looked down, seemingly in thought. For a moment she'd believed she'd done it, he let her think she had proved herself. If he could feel her every emotion, he'd certainly felt her hope begin to rise. And like a balloon that had just been pricked by a pin, it popped before her.  
"I think I could make use of you on the cleaning crew."


	3. Blood In The Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara has been banished to the night shift cleaning crew upon Kylo Ren's orders. That won't stop her from doing a damn good job, or from plotting her next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, readers! Enjoy a new chapter. Also - side note - since this main story is lacking fluff and smut, I have started writing a collection of side stories that will fill in time gaps between this main story. Not sure when I'll start posting them but I'll be sure to keep y'all updated. xo

When Commander Ren had infiltrated her mind just a few weeks before, he had stumbled upon too many truths for Polara to wrestle with at once. The demons he'd managed to pull from the depths of her thoughts were still tormenting her from within. Her nightmares were more prominent than ever. The man that she worked hard to cast away from her daily thoughts was suddenly at the forefront of everything. Her emotions were a wreck. The commander had been correct in assuming she couldn't control them. Polara's anger dripped from her every fiber and seeped into anything she touched. Her blue sadness danced about and intertwined with the red of her rage. Sometimes they'd touch, but they weren't a desirable hue when they did. The fervor of this mental rollercoaster ride made her feel sick to her stomach. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep. Or the scent of the chemicals she used to clean up the command center while on duty.   
Before she'd been banished to the cleaning crew of Starkiller Base, Polara would have said that her very least favorite activity was sleeping. Now, her very least favorite activity was pulling on the drab jumpsuit they called a uniform and getting the marching orders from her datapad. She missed her black dress and the way it flowed around her and kept her feeling shielded. She missed the excitement of anything other than a sad jumpsuit that reminded her of her confinement. After her interrogation, commander Ren had so little regard for her that he'd seen to it she was on the third shift of the cleaning crew. Not only was there less interaction with anyone who wasn't pushing around the trash to be thrown into the compactor, but there was also little to no chance she'd get to plead her case to anyone of importance. The quiet of the nearly empty halls made every sound echo. The command center was the worst of it all. There was rarely anyone there at this time, and if there was they certainly wouldn't acknowledge her existence. Polara's sole purpose was to ensure that every last inch of the place was spotless. Still yet, she'd been spending hours in her quarters plotting how she'd convince the powers that be she had far more potential.  
As Polara stared into the mirror, painting a crimson shade onto her lips, she was as absentminded as she could possibly be. Her mind was racing with dreams of escaping Cloud City with enough previous Tibanna resources to fuel a revolution. There were scenarios where she was the victor, scenarios where she'd found herself lost in space travel, even scenarios where she didn't make it out alive. Anything would do to keep her mind from her own appearance and any likeness of her father. It was there. She couldn't deny it. Her freckles were passed down from her fair-skinned mother, thank the stars. But her features, the tone of her skin, even her hair was tinged with fragments of him. Lando. She blamed him for this mistake she'd made. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't have been begging the First Order for a gig. She wouldn't have to claw her way to the top of yet another chain of command. She wouldn't have abandoned her position in Cloud City overseeing the smuggling of Tibanna gas. He had a way of ruining everything for her. The bastard.

\--

A long sigh escaped from Polara's lungs as she wrapped up her tasks. The only way she could think of to get noticed was to make sure her job was done and exceeded expectations every time. Even if it meant being on her hands and knees scrubbing ferociously, that damned command center was going to shine. At the very least, she had something to pour her emotions into.  
The coal colored floors sparkled around her as she paused to admire her work. It was pristine but would likely go unnoticed by those who paraded about the command center. Her mind began to wander to Commander Ren. The way he walked about and demanded whatever he wanted. She soon found herself gazing at her own warped reflection, lost in thought. It was like breaking one of her own rules. A distraction from her purpose that would only prove to be a setback. Still, she gazed upon the reflected image. The path of her thoughts led her back to when she was the commander of her own crew. When she controlled others and didn't have to put any effort into controlling herself she could get lost in the passion. She could harness her wild ferocity and take whatever she needed. But she wasn't like Kylo Ren. She didn't belittle her crew. She needed them and they weren't brainwashed at birth to bow to her. They were treated with respect and at the end of the day, they were always rewarded for their achievements. They meant something. If it meant landing them a never-ending gig with The First Order, it was worth buffing floors for.  
As the memories swirled through the rose-colored fog her mind, Polara felt a swell in her chest. Her emotions were back again. This time pride, and longing. Regret. They grew stronger inside of her and pulled at her very soul, like a storm brewing it's way to a head. She hadn't even realized how loudly she was breathing as it all engulfed her, draping her in indulgence. Something cold pierced the warmth of her reminiscence and sent her crashing back into consciousness. Something she found eerily familiar.  
"Calrissian. What a delight." Commander Ren sensed when she was pulled back into reality. "Thrilled to see you could join the crew again. Enjoy your brief diversion?"  
Polara could feel the disdain in his tone. It stung, poking something in her that she could have sworn unlocked the part of her brain that stored anger. She felt her teeth begin to grind but did her best to push back any hint of animosity.  
"Commander," she greeted calmly, glancing up from the shiny floors. Her eyes landed on his boots and traveled upward. They took their time, allowing her some grace before looking up and facing him in shame. He could hear everything. There was no hiding any of it. "I've just finished up here. As you'll see, I've completed the tasks at hand and I'll be retiring to my quarters. I believe I've got a brilliant plan to--"  
"I don't think you've finished your duties." He didn't even give her the chance to complete her sentence. He wouldn't allow her an opportunity to bring up whatever foolishness she was dreaming of.  
"Commander, I've made certain that everything here is spotless."  
Kylo didn't honor her with a response. Instead, his arm swept backward, taking his cloak with it. As the bottom of the black material brushed over the floor, Polara could see something. A mark. A scuff. It was a test.  
Without another word, she reached into her kit and grabbed the very same cloth she'd used to buff this same spot just minutes before. Something was bubbling despite her will to hold it back. Her fingers gripped the cloth a little too hard, draining her fingertips of their color. She carefully cleaned up the marking and didn't stop until there wasn't a single trace of it left behind.  
"Good," he spoke calmly, taking a step backward, sure to drag his black boot along with him. He made yet another scuff mark on the floor. The heat was beginning to rise through Polara's chest again. But this was a test, wasn't it? Likely something about controlling herself. Her red lips pursed and she shuffled on her hands and knees, inching closer to Commander Ren's boots. Her nostrils flared slightly and she exhaled, leaning to buff out this fresh new streak. Her fingers managed to grip tighter to the cloth and her strokes became a bit faster. She had to finish this before the heat rose to the top of her skull and exposed her as the unruly vagrant the commander believed her to be.  
The matte black streak had nearly been erased when it happened. When the commander's foot had rocked backward slightly and then rocked forward to step on the cloth. She wasn't going to let him win whatever game he had made her into.  
Polara grasped the cloth and pulled, but the weight was much too heavy to free it from his hold. If it were a test, this would be the very moment she knew she was going to fail miserably. Seconds after he'd trapped the cloth under his boot her glance shot upward, narrowing her eyes at the mask Kylo Ren hid behind. The fire rose faster than she'd anticipated, nearly making her dizzy as she rose to her feet. Without fear or hesitation, Polara stepped closer to Commander Ren. He towered her, height and mass swallowing her own but she remained unafraid. What was the worst he could do? Kill her? Her grey eyes peered up at his helmet covered face, fists curling, and nostrils flaring. "I'd like nothing more than to complete my task, commander. How can I ensure you're able to admire yourself as you abuse your power and subordinates if your command center isn't spotless?"  
A rush flowed through Polara's veins that she hadn't felt in weeks. It was almost as if she'd just embraced an old friend. There was comfort and joy, there was excitement. The high was undeniable even as she watched Commander Ren's shoulders lift. They were tense, nearly touching the sides of his helmet. She even thought she heard his angry breathing through his helmet. Until another noise blazed through to overpower it. He had reached to his side and pulled out the hilt of his weapon. It roared to life in a matter of seconds, glowing red and putting forth a heat that felt entirely too close for comfort. If it had been any closer to her, she was sure her skin would have caught fire. She wasn't even sure which part of the crossguard weapon would reach her first.  
Kylo held the weapon steady, light flirting with the ends of Polara's curls. The danger she felt only seemed to excite her more somehow. Sure, at any moment he could decide to end her life with one swift movement of his wrist. He was a Jedi, right? No doubt he was skilled with his weapon. But he hadn't yet done anything to prove it. His pause enticed her. At least something other than hand cleaning floors was happening.  
He'd sensed it. Sensed the endorphins that were released from her as she stared her own mortality in the face. Perhaps that was what stopped him. Her heart was racing, pulse thumping hard enough to make itself known in her neck. The feeling was incredible.  
As quickly as he'd pulled the lightsaber on her, he withdrew it. The blade retracted and he stood, still tense and breathing heavily. To Polara's surprise, she found her breathing was shaky and shallow. Her eyes were glossed over, the rush of the encounter evoking a strange reaction from her she hadn't expected.  
When the silence between them began to dawn on her, deafening her slowly, she allowed her eyes to dart down to Kylo's weapon. She wanted to admire it, it was drawing her in. The rough edges and the exposed wiring, the singed looking material, and the way it fit into his hand. If it had a voice, it would call her name. She couldn't look away from it. That is until a voice rang out to shatter the building tension in the room.  
"Commander," began a woman in a black uniform. Not like Polara's. This uniform was official. "We've got to send troopers out now. We've got word there's a base somewhere in the Outer Rim. It could belong to the Resistance."  
"Send them." He barked, turning his attention completely to the officer. Polara's eyes wandered from the lightsaber to the doorway where the woman stood, even if they didn't want to.  
"Commander, sir," she continued. A hint of nervousness could be detected in her voice. "We can only send half. We've got to reserve the rest. We can't send an entire fleet until our ships are stocked and ready for battle."  
Kylo's hands turned into fists, leather creaking under the pressure. He stared at the officer and Polara could see that he was currently fighting his own anger. "Send them."  
"At once, commander." The officer turned on her heel and quickly disappeared from the doorway, leaving the two alone.  
The silence descended upon the room once again. Commander Ren stood as tense as ever, face still fixated on the doorway. Polara's lips tingled, begging to relieve the quiet filling her ears. Something was right on the tip of her tongue. She couldn't control her emotions, nor could she control her urge to be right. Now she was left feeling like the game master. Here was her hunter, trapped into a corner that she knew she could manipulate. The favor had turned toward her and the only way to seize it was to call his bluff.  
"You need me," she said, staring at the side of the heavy helmet. Kylo's head turned slightly and Polara knew he was glancing at her out of his peripherals.  
"I need you to complete your task, Calrissian."  
Polara closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She let her mind take her back to the mine that she and her gang of misfit thieves had taken control of. The abundance of the very resources that the First Order needed. How easy it would be for her to make her way to Cloud City and seize anything she wanted. When her eyes fluttered back open, she stepped even closer to the imposing body in front of her. If he could see everything, he could certainly see her worth now. Emotions be damned, Polara knew she could offer the First Order more than just clean floors. "You. Need. _Me._ "


	4. Terrible Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara's first mission with the First Order has arrived, and Commander Ren is sent along for the ride to oversee. With something to prove and little to lose, she'll see to it that the mission is nothing but successful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween times! Here's an extra chapter this week. :) Enjoy.

Much to the dismay of Kylo Ren, Polara found herself standing in front a table alongside a group of First Order officers. It had only taken about a week for him to give in, and even when he did he was sure to inform her it wasn't his decision to allow her to assist.  
Upon the table was the projection of a map, one that showed the route from Starkiller Base to Cloud City. The greenish glow of it illuminated the faces of all the personnel around her and it somehow made them seem a bit more human. Sure, they were all cold and hardened in nature. Their faces were stone and their hearts were frozen, suspended in their icy chests. But as their skin took on another shade Polara could see clearly that they were flesh and blood just like her. She belonged here with all of them.  
The officials were all in their designated black uniforms and Commander Ren was predictably engulfed by layers of clothing and that damn helmet. Polara herself had won the right to wear her coveted black dress once again. It felt just as comforting as it always had. It was only soft fabric, but it instilled confidence in her that was unparalleled. Everything felt right.  
"You can secure the resources and report back to base in seventy-two hours?" asked General Hux. He was a particularly nasty one to deal with, but just like Commander Ren, he was nothing to fear. At least for now. Polara was confident that she could do this mission with ease. If she were feeling particularly cocky, she'd promise the goods in less time. For the sake of her own ass, she simply nodded in agreement.  
"I can, sir." Even while his sneer of clear doubt stayed glued to his face, her determination was even stickier.  
"Very well. I've already made the arrangements for your crew and travel. The mission and barter will take place under the supervision of Commander Ren."  
'Fuck,' she thought to herself, forgetting he could hear her. Her eyes shot from General Hux to the helmet-clad Kylo. This wasn't in her plan at all. By the looks of it, he certainly hadn't planned for it either.  
"I highly doubt I could be of any assistance on a mission that has nothing to do with me." He was trying to remain calm but the objection in his voice was a glimpse into how he was truly feeling about the situation. "Perhaps Supreme Leader Snoke should hear about your unanticipated orders first?"  
General Hux's face showed a subtle hint of satisfaction. "We've already discussed the situation. She cannot be trusted. You'll accompany her."  
"We've got plenty of capable knights to fulfill your request--"  
A pale hand lifted, signaling the end of turn for Kylo Ren to speak. General Hux turned to face him, hands moving behind his back. "She doesn't need muscle. She needs a keeper. You'll see to it that you and the resources return safely."  
As the General walked away from the projection Polara stared into it. When she'd told him he needed her, she hadn't meant it the other way around. What did she need him for? A keeper? She wasn't a child and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. She could get this job done without the likes of a Commander tagging along. Her thoughts were racing quickly, eyes darting over the map again and again. 'Fuck,'  
Her eyes broke away from the map after a few harrowing moments inside of her own head. When they landed on Kylo they lingered in disbelief. She'd be stuck with him reading her every thought, distaste for her growing as he was dragged along on a mission he shouldn't have been responsible for. Polara inhaled sharply as she came to the realization that he could hear her now. If he cared what she was thinking he didn't show it. He stood motionless with his arms tense, staring at what she could only assume to be her. Whether they liked it or not, they were bound together for the next seventy-two hours.  
"We leave at fourteen-hundred. Do not make me wait." Kylo stormed off, steps heavy and purposeful.

\--

With only four crew members on board, Polara found the awkward silence fitting. That didn't make it unbearable. She could barely even think with the threat of a mind reader around. She'd resolved to keep herself busy by going over the route and the plan in her head over and over again. That was sure to drive the Commander nuts.  
They would arrive in her home village, at the back entrance of the mine she'd seized before she left for Ilum. The exchange would be simple and it would benefit both parties. Credits for Tibanna gas. The two other crew members on board would assist the men of the mines with loading up the hauler, then follow the command shuttle back to Starkiller. They'd be in and out in no time.  
Around the twelfth time she went over the plan in her head, her eyes wandered toward the pilot's seat. Of course he could pilot his own ship, he could do anything he desired. Part of Polara envied it, while the other parts were disgusted by it. It was too hard not to have such personal thoughts even if he could hear her. He seemed irritated, but when didn't he? She knew it was because of her. Not that it mattered. She wasn't here to impress him after all, she was only here to secure her place with The First Order and become a resource smuggling kingpin. There was still a pang of hope buried deep within that hoped maybe he would hate her less after she completed a successful mission.  
Once the ship had arrived at its destination Polara was buzzing with eagerness. She was, well, home, she supposed. It never felt like home, not after all that had happened. Her mother wasn't there, her father had long since abandoned the place. All she had was her band of eccentric smugglers and criminals. The thought of them feeling proud of her pressed a button that fueled the excitement. They knew this was her goal, they knew she'd planned to work her way into The Order. This was for the best. Her friends would get the credits they deserved, the First Order would be fueled for domination and Polara... Polara would belong. She would be powerful.  
A hiss came from the command shuttle as the ramp dropped down. Polara stepped out and breathed in the familiar air. She'd never felt homesick before and she didn't now. This was likely as close as she would come to it. A friendly face was on the other side of the ship, waiting patiently for her arrival.  
"Orin," Polara smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. Her red lips were wide, revealing the teeth behind them. Her boots carried her until she stood in front of him, just inches away. There was a moment of hesitation before the two of them crashed into a hug. She laughed as her arms squeezed tightly around the man. "I trust you've kept everything well in my absence."  
"You'll be pleased," he responded. His smiling eyes looked up and began to slowly drain of their happiness. A look of concern washed over his face. Polara turned her head quickly, looking back to see Commander Ren standing on the ramp. She'd grown used to his presence by now, but to anyone else, it was surely a shock.  
"This is Commander Kylo Ren of The First Order." Polara took on a strong tone, voice sounding as official as ever. "We've come to make a deal."  
The entrance of the mine was just as she'd left it. All of her comrades were standing by to greet her with smiling faces. She couldn't help her joy as she said hello to all of them individually. Kylo stood at a distance and Polara assumed he was observing her, making note of her every move.  
They all gathered around a makeshift table that was made from gathered stones. It was far from official but it was all they had for now, and it would serve its purpose. Orin leaned forward onto the rock, a signal for official business to begin.  
"Seventy-thousand credits for the gas," he began. His face had turned to stone, taking on a new form for negotiations.  
"That wasn't the deal. You have my respect Orin but do not think I will be swindled. Fifty thousand for the agreed-upon lot. The exchange is ready." Polara remained steady, spilling a bag of credits to prove she was a woman of her word. It was more than enough to split between the crew of four. Orin's face fell slightly, and he leaned in a bit further. "Negotiation doesn't mean firm prices."  
His response triggered the heat. This was a friend, a colleague. He knew how much this deal meant to her and what it would mean for them. This wasn't the time to go back on their plans.  
"Fifty. For the lot." Polara leaned in as well, matching the intensity of her partner's tone. Their eyes met and stayed locked. Her lips were pressed together, trying to read whether or not Orin was going to follow through with his promise. If there were a time to envy the fact that the Commander could read minds, it was at this very moment.  
"Alright," Orin sighed. "Deal. Boys, load the hauler."  
Polara's lips went back into their plump state and then curled into a smile of satisfaction. She'd done it. The deal was done with ease. She turned her head, violet curls falling in front of her face. She wasn't sure why she'd done it. It wasn't like Commander Ren could give her a look of approval from behind the helmet. He stood as still as the stone of the table and hadn't spoken a word since they'd arrived. Her eyes fell down to the table after a few moments, giving up on any sign of life.

Polara stood nearby Commander Ren so they could oversee the transport of the gas into the hauler. By now she was an expert and could guestimate exactly how much Tibanna gas was being hauled. She watched carefully, eyes never leaving the men who were loading it up. By the looks of it there would be four more cylinders of gas left to be loaded, but the men stopped their work early.  
"Your cargo is ready," Orin said, bowing slightly at the waist. Polara wasn't convinced. They'd all done this plenty of times and the calculations were off. Her eyes lingered on the hauler for a few moments before darting back to Orin. Commander Ren turned, obviously headed back to the command shuttle. Polara stood still.  
"No," she said. Her statement was steadfast. The heat was boiling in her chest and growing rapidly. The surge of emotion was enough to stop the Commander in his tracks. He didn't turn his body, but his head. He was watching her. "You've shorted me, Orin. Do you think I'm a fool? Do you think spending a few weeks away from Bespin has turned me into a mindless droid?" Polara stepped toward Orin and she didn't stop until they were toe-to-toe. If she were any taller they'd be face-to-face as well. "Don't insult me."  
Commander Ren turned slightly, watching with a somewhat better view.  
"You're an arrogant twit. You've got your resources. Leave us."  
Polara was washed over by an instant wave of outrage. Who the fuck did he think he was? She made him. She sheltered him and gave him a purpose. He was ungrateful even though she'd been looking out for his. The awful taste of betrayal was on her tongue.  
"The hauler is four short." Her eyes seemed to be a darker grey as they left his face and traveled over to the faces of the rest of her former crew. She could see it. Polara knew he was lying and the shame on the faces of the others confirmed it. Orin was never a good liar, but when she'd left the mine in his hands she'd never expected he'd have to do much of that. "Load the rest of The First Order's resources. Now. We haven't got time to waste."  
Confident that he'd obey Polara turned to walk toward the hauler, and Orin let her down. Instead of ordering the rest of the gas he reached out and grabbed her by the back of her black dress. His fingers clutched the fabric and he yanked her against his chest.  
"You never listened and I can see your time with them hasn't changed that." With one hard push from his hand, Polara stumbled forward and hit the ground. Her cheek smacked against it, palms hitting as well. She was stunned. Gone for how long and now he thought he could push her around?  
Commander Ren turned fully now, ready to advance on Orin. His hand was reaching instinctively for his weapon, gripping it tightly once it made it there. Before he could pull it from its holder a loud yell echoed through the air. Polara had scrambled to her feet, barely even standing as she tackled Orin to the ground. He hit with a thud, clearly surprised by her attack. He must have forgotten who she was, forgotten that she knew him better than any other member of the smuggling ring. She was quick to reach into the leg of his pants, grabbing the blaster that he kept inside. Polara had seen him use it before, and she knew exactly where he hid it.  
The woman scrambled to her feet once again, anger so rampant that she could hardly feel her fingers anymore. But they still worked just fine, grasping the trigger of the blaster. Her hand stretched out and pointed the weapon directly at him. The fucking traitor. He couldn't even let her have the first run without a hitch. There was nothing more to say. Orin knew what he'd done. Before he had the time to muscle his way back up for a fight, she squeezed the trigger and fired the blaster. It hit him, sinking into his chest with ease. Betrayal tasted even more bitter when it persisted.  
Adrenaline was taking over her blood with every beat of her heart. Her ears were ringing, her teeth were grinding. As she panted she kept her stance over Orin's body. The blaster was still pointed at his lifeless form. She stayed frozen, except for her head. It turned to face the crew, eyes wild, strands of purple coils blowing in the gentle breeze. "Load the rest of the gas."  
Polara stood still for a moment as she gazed down upon what she'd done. Orin was dead. But he'd done it to himself. This was his own fault, not hers. He deserved it. That thought was stopped as she felt the familiar cold pressure on her head. Kylo wanted inside. He wanted to see what she was thinking after her terrible deed. She wouldn't allow him to have much if she could help it.  
The pressure made her wince and she stood straight despite the pain. She calmly turned, tucked the blaster into her belt, and walked toward the command shuttle. Polara breezed past the Commander without so much as a glance in his direction. She'd done her job, and done it well. They were leaving with the resources and it didn't matter that someone had lost their life in the process. That was part of the danger. She knew that. They all knew that.


	5. Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara stumbles upon her Commander and finds herself offering him some company.

In Polara's mind, Starkiller Base was full of non-stop action. There were battles and missions, and plenty of excitement to go around. In reality, there was a lot more to it than that. Sure, there were a few smugglers runs she was sent on thanks to the success of her first one. She'd traveled from planet to planet with the objective of obtaining whatever it was the First Order desired. Sometimes it was alongside Commander Ren, sometimes General Hux trusted her enough to allow her to complete the mission solo. She'd figured it out that it all relied on how his mood was on the day of the mission.  
Between the smuggling, there were lulls that threatened to drive her insane. Her constant need to be involved in something gnawed at her whenever she wasn't particularly busy. That was always when her thoughts had room to wander. Now that she was getting comfortable in her position with the First Order, her other plans were starting to infiltrate her daily thoughts. She'd made it to the base and convinced them that she would be useful, she was established and thriving. Her old crew back in Cloud City was thriving as well with riches the likes of which they'd never seen. But there was one more thing, still, one task left unchecked.  
By now Polara knew the ins and outs of the beast that was Starkiller Base. She'd explored wherever she could in her downtime, roaming throughout the steel walls with the intention of keeping herself busy. It didn't always work.  
On that day she found herself returning to somewhat familiar territory. She'd been in this corridor before. When Polara had first arrived at Starkiller and was dragged off to play whatever cat-and-mouse game Kylo Ren enjoyed. The interrogation room door was just ahead and she had every intention of strolling by and paying it no mind, but something stopped her. At the entrance stood a stormtrooper on guard, and just beyond it sat Commander Ren. His helmet was off, resting next to him as his eyes were glued to the contraption she had once found herself in. He seemed pensive. Distracted. Her boots stopped at the entrance. They didn't turn her to face it. Her head turned though, letting her curls fall to one side, aside from a few rogue strands that fell down near her eyelashes. He was busy and she knew better than to interrupt his work, but they'd come close to being civil with one another since they'd often been fated to travel together. Maybe he wouldn't mind her presence.   
As that thought crossed her mind Kylo finally looked up from his point of interest. His face was expressionless, as it usually was. There were a few moments of silence that hung in the air. During them, they stared one another down, neither of them willing to back down. The silence proved to be a bit too much for Polara and she was the first to break it.   
"Commander." She was still looking into his eyes, searching for any sign of life.  
"Calrissian."   
At least he'd responded. He was a man of few words unless provoked. He stood from his seat and with one movement of his arm invited her inside. Polara gave one firm nod before she turned and made her way into the room. It was still creepy looking, like something only a medical droid would inhabit. Her eyes scanned the room slowly, drinking in all of the details. When the grey orbs settled on the wrist restraints next to her she blinked, willing away any memory that might try and come back to her.   
"Practicing your technique?" She wasn't even sure that the Commander even possessed the ability to appreciate jokes. She'd certainly never heard him laugh beyond a dry chuckle and now wouldn't be an exception. Kylo put his hands behind his back, gloved fingers interlacing as he began to pace around her.   
"Are you volunteering to be my subject?"   
'Was that a joke?' she thought, mind drumming it up before she could recall that he could hear her. The last time had gone horribly and he'd dug in so deeply that she was left feeling unlike herself for weeks. Of course she wouldn't agree to it again.  
"No," he began. His voice was much less harsh without the helmet, but the tone still had a way of dispiriting her. It felt somehow more threatening as he paced around her like a vulture circling its prey. "You should work on controlling your emotions. I can feel their intensity from quite the distance. They influence you to do things before you're able to reign them in."   
Polara swallowed down quite hard as she listened. He was right. He was always fucking right. There were times when she hadn't realized she'd done something until after she was finished seeing red. But she thought that this was what helped make her ferocious. They helped when it came to being respected and even feared.   
"It's a weakness," The conversation continued without a word from Polara's mouth. But she had found her voice once she'd heard this statement.  
"It's one you aren't perfect at either." He pulled a weapon on her, he'd been known to throw his little temper tantrums and destroy things. He succumbed to his emotions as well. "Who are you to judge?"  
"There's a difference between you and me. If I were anything like you, half of the Order would be annihilated." Right again.   
With a sigh of defeat, Polara glanced from him to the interrogation chair. It wasn't like she could really say no. Besides, what else did she have to do around the base? Kylo looked up briefly, using the force to shut the door to the entrance with a sound that startled her. At her own will this time she stepped up onto the platforms where her boots would rest. Her hands reached back and pulled her wild purple hair to one shoulder. It wasn't going to keep it from getting caught in anything but it made her feel a bit better. Then, her wrists settled into the restraints. Even though she'd chosen this fate, it didn't make it any easier.   
"Where were we, Polara," he mused aloud as he reached down to tie the restraints. He yanked hard on them, both hands already beginning to show signs of circulation loss. Polara. He called her by her first name which was downright unsettling. He'd never done that before and it felt too personal. Like he'd already settled into her mind. Once her wrists were pinned the Commander stood back to admire the sight. He drew in a breath and gave her a once over, slow and sinister. "You came here to claim a position with the First Order, and you've done well to impress others. You've proven yourself to be effective."   
Kylo Ren paced around her again, making slow circles as he mused. His voice was flat and so was his expression. Here he was, about to torture Polara again and he couldn't even seem excited about it. "You slaughtered your own to make sure you got what you wanted. You aren't afraid of death." As the last observation came from him he stopped in front of her and leaned in. His face was close to her own and it made her feel strange. Scared, but again, not of him. Something else as well. Something she'd felt before when a blazing, live cross blade lightsaber was dangerously close to her. "But it's not enough, is it?"  
Polara swallowed down again, suddenly unable to look up at the man who was peering at her. She felt exposed and they'd only just begun. "I'm not done. This isn't my final purpose."   
A smirk washed over the Commander's face, which made her eyes dart back up to him. A sign that there was more in there than he wanted her to know. She made sure to watch his lips closely so that she could remember them. So that she could call upon the memory later when she needed a reminder that he was human.   
"Your father. Lando Calrissian. The Empire traitor. The rebel protector. You think this is your final purpose?" Alright, he was good at reading her.  
"Yes. I cannot stop until I've seen the end of him." Polara felt her jaw start to grow tenser. The mention of that man always began the simmer of rage and she'd never had to learn to control it.   
"You've come here to do it. Why?"   
Polara sighed and rolled her eyes. "If you can read my mind, you don't have to ask any questions. This is hardly an interrogation."   
Kylo's arm reached up and effortlessly began to put pressure onto her head. Though she'd felt this numerous times as well, it also never got any easier. Her eyes shut instantly, trying to keep him out. But now that he'd mentioned Lando she just couldn't hold it together. An image shot to the front of her brain. A vision of him standing over her in war-torn Cloud City, watching her as she fought for her life. The memory caused a sudden rise in her heart rate and pulled forth an involuntary scream. Polara worked so hard to get that out of her head. The only time she had to face it was when the nightmares came to ruin her sleep. How could he pull it forth so easily?   
The pressure stopped suddenly and her body went limp. Sweat was starting to form at her hairline and her jaw remained as tense as ever. When she opened her eyes again the Commander seemed to be rolling this memory over in his own mind. He was still looking at her, but he was somewhere else. His hand fell once again and he resumed his pacing.   
"You don't have to do that to me," she said, balling up her fists in the restraints.   
"He left you for dead. You didn't matter. You were nothing." The way the words came from him seemed more understanding than she'd expected. He was learning about her, but not at her own will. He stopped again, standing before her. As his hand lifted once more Polara felt her anger start to cultivate. Even under these circumstances, she couldn't control that fiery emotion. Another smirk from Kylo Ren. He enjoyed this.   
He flexed his fingers gently and this time his target did her best not to close her eyes. She was going to fight him. Her eyes focused on his own, willing any thought she'd have away with all of her might. He gave her a look that resembled boredom and reached forward, glove bound fingertips alarmingly close to her face. The pressure on her brain intensified and felt something like a sharp drill, tapping into things she didn't want anyone to see. Another vision was fished out from the deepest depths. Something she'd locked away long ago. It was Lando. He was waving to the citizens of Cloud City from his lavish cloud top dwellings. He looked happy, proud to be the Baron Administrator. A young Polara stared up at him. She was hopeful, waiting for him to spot her and greet her warmly. To realize that his daughter was down there. The young girl's hope swirled inside of her body as his eyes landed on her. No, they looked through her. Not even a moment's notice from the man that had created her.   
The vision disappeared and brought her back to the dimly lit interrogation room. Her eyes were filled to the brim with burning tears. Her chest hurt and her lungs were suddenly finding it impossible to gather enough air. An intense feeling of panic started to wash over her. All of her limbs were numb and her stomach churned. The manifestation of all of this left her feeling faint. The cold sweat from her forehead slipped down and met with a warm tear that she hadn't even known was there.   
"Stay. Out of my mind."  
"You're weak."  
"You're just stronger than me." Polara spat back through gritted teeth. Her jaw was now clenched so tightly it was starting to ache. At least one part of her had sensation left.  
"Try harder." His tone was melodic. He was amused by her effort and he wanted her to know it. Weak. That's exactly what she was, vulnerable to him and his vile abuse of power. As she sniffled, she took a moment to muster up the courage to defend herself. Her mouth opened, red paint smeared slightly by the way she had been pressing her lips together, but nothing came out. Instead, the door to the room opened up. General Hux and his typical unpleasant presence entered. He stopped once he had reached the two of them and looked down at Polara with a sneer. The same look of disgust carried over to Commander Ren.  
"Playtime is over. We've got a job for Calrissian."   



	6. Used to the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara will do anything to avoid her own nightmares. Once she's tried it all, she turns to an unlikely distraction.

No matter how much Polara preoccupied herself with anything she could come up with, she still faced something every night that she tried her best to avoid. Sleeping. It never seemed to come any easier. Most of her nights were less than restful and filled with nightmares. She often woke in a cold sweat from reliving some of her worst memories in the form of a dream. At their worst, they had the ability to keep her from drifting back to sleep for the rest of the night. Being awake was the better choice when it allowed her to control the path her thoughts took. Sleep was just too vulnerable, too uncertain.   
These facts were only solidified when she had been startled awake yet again and unable to find herself comfortable enough to settle. In all her tossing and turning she was desperate enough to recall something her mother taught her. Once when Polara was just ten, she'd been involved in a tussle with another young girl in her village. Even then she had no control over her emotions. In a futile attempt to help Polara, her dear mother had shown her breathing exercises. Breathing in and out slowly while counting, allowing her mind to focus solely on that task. It hadn't worked then and it certainly didn't now.  
She'd laid there for what felt like hours, growing tired of her mind wandering, growing tired of counting, of breathing. That was the final thought before she stood up from her cot. If she'd laid there any longer she would have gone insane. With a deep sigh, she shuffled her way toward the small wardrobe where her things were stored. Contrary to what one might have thought, Polara owned something other than the black dress she adored. Not many more things, but they were hers. At that moment she was dressed quite cozy in a black sweater and soft black pants made to sleep in. They'd been given to her upon being placed onto the cleaning crew and had grown to become a comfort to her at the end of a long day. Why abandon them now?   
The violet haired girl pulled on her boots and strolled quietly from her quarters with the goal of clearing her mind. The third shift remained the same after she left it. Quiet and empty. Stormtroopers patrolled the hallways and blissfully ignored her as she roamed the halls. Displaying her credentials on her hip was a sure way to avoid any interaction. It was almost as if she were a ghost, completely transparent, and only haunting the empty corridors. There wasn't much left to explore on Starkiller Base. At this point, Polara had been everywhere with the exception of what was off-limits to anyone not high ranking. She still wouldn't be able to access those places but she could stroll by them.  
As her boots carried her through the deck that was so close to private quarters, her mind began to wander -- and finally on something that wasn't past trauma. This time it wandered to her Commander. The missions they were sent on together had dwindled slowly as she became more trusted and he had other things to attend to. There wasn't much time to spend on letting him into her deepest and most shameful memories. In fact, she found that she missed it. Being tortured was a strange thing to miss. It was even likely that their previous encounter had brought about the raging storm of nightmares she'd been having as of late. But there was an intimacy to it. A feeling of excitement and closeness in a way she'd never felt before. Painful and enticing. Perhaps that was the reason that she walked this very path. Surely he'd be in his quarters brooding or whatever it was he did alone.   
Polara came to a stop when she knew she could go no further. There were guards around and she couldn't be bothered to explain to anyone why she was lurking about. The blockade didn't mean that she couldn't call to him. Commander Ren had made it known to her that he could sense when she was around. Her emotions lit up his brain like a stream of flaming cosmic debris. Still, it wasn't as if she had mastered how to draw him out. Even if she had, it was late and she wasn't even dressed according to code. Her hair was a mess of bright, frizzy curls haphazardly pulled into two buns atop her head. The shorter bits that didn't fit into them were sticking out all over. There was no red shade on her lips and no haughty stride to keep her confident. On this night, Polara was admittedly undefended. As the realization of her state came to her she blinked back into reality. This was a terrible idea and she should have known that much. With a glance toward the private corridor, Polara resolved to walk away. To walk anywhere else. A place where she wouldn't feel so damn self-conscious.   
She turned quickly and scurried off on the same path she'd taken to get there. Maybe he was sleeping, or her attempt had failed. It wasn't like she had a direct dial into his mind. In a moment of anxiety, she curled her fingers into a fist and began to press her nails into her palm. The feeling lurched and grew stronger once she began to hear heavy footsteps that were unmistakable. She'd done it. The call to him had somehow worked and now there was no turning back. What was she supposed to do now? Run? He had way longer legs and was faster than her at damn near anything. No, she'd have to face it. Face him. In all of her disheveled glory.   
She stopped suddenly and pressed her nails even further into her palms. Kylo was still walking quickly and his pace didn't slow until he was standing in front of her. Her grey eyes stared up at him with all her insecurity inside of them. He had his signature scowl on his face and hardened eyes, and to her surprise, he was still in his usual attire sans the helmet. Moments of silence hung in the air and Polara was sure he'd want some sort of explanation from her, but she didn't have one. There was no reason for her to be there. Her mind was drawing blanks and besides, he could hear them all anyway.   
"Hi." That was it. All that Polara could even think of to say to the Commander standing in front of her. An informal greeting. That self-conscious feeling was beginning to grow all around her, nearly swallowing her whole as his amber-colored eyes gave her a once over. Her heart was racing as she released her fists and tugged the sleeves of her sweater over her hands like it was going to make her feel less exposed. But there she was, bare, without her armor.   
"Polara," he greeted in return.   
She wasn't sure what was more perplexing: hearing her first name from him again, or the tone he used. It wasn't harsh or threatening, it didn't drip with disdain. Instead of making her feel more at ease, it only made her feel more awkward. "Sorry," Her eyes closed and her head shook from one side to the other. _'What the hell am I doing here, asking for more nightmares?'_ she asked herself. Her urge to turn and run rose as her mind raced through options of what to do next.   
"You're scared. You dream about him."   
The statement made her grey eyes open and become visible to him again. There was no way to fight it. He was already inside. "Yeah," she murmured. It was followed by a soft sigh of defeat. "I just thought maybe I could... Take a walk. I just wanted to not think."  
"You need me for that?" he asked. It provoked another sigh. This one was even louder and more defeated.   
"No. No, I just. I was walking by and I..." She was stammering over her words and still unable to find an excuse to give him. He wasn't dumb. He could read her more easily than anyone else had.   
Kylo's eyes went a bit softer as they bore into her, then slowly wrinkled. He was fixated. Before she could continue to stumble through any more excuses Polara felt that familiar pressure in her skull. The cold and sharp drilling of him invading it. She winced and shut her eyes tightly as he sifted through deeper thoughts. Images from her nightmares. The limp bodies of her perished peers, alien creatures setting fire to anything they could find. One particular image he withdrew caused incredibly intense pain, one that had her hands instinctively clutching at her abdomen.   
"Stop!" she shouted. And he did. It was like being dropped suddenly from the highest mountain. Like being left to hit the ground as hard as gravity could manage.   
Polara's hands were clinging desperately to the same spot, the very spot where her scar was hidden underneath the black cloth of her sweater. She never spoke of her scar if she could avoid it. It was one insecurity, a physical memento of her pain. It was sacred, deeply personal.   
"You don't have to take everything." She was panting, doubled over but looking up toward the much taller man. He stood before her with that emotionless face, hands to his sides.   
Once Polara stood straight again she stared right back at him. Her eyes were brimming with tears though she remained calm. This time her emotions weren't going to win. He wasn't going to win. "You take too much. Can't you just let me give you something?"  
The deepest parts of her had been stolen. They'd been mined from the depths of her soul with little effort from him. She'd come all the way there, to his quarters to call to him. For something, anything other than being further traumatized. "You leave me this way every time, Kylo."   
There was a puzzled look on his face and Polara mistook it for annoyance. "Commander," she corrected quickly. His face fell back into its natural emotionless state, but his eyes moved downward. Commander Ren was no longer looking at her face and studying it. He'd adverted his gaze and settled on her hands. They were still pressed against the fabric of her sweater, protecting the scarred skin underneath. At first, she was confused. Had she done something wrong? Had he not understood what she meant? Was he mad at her for calling him by his first name? The thoughts raced as her eyes darted down to her hands. No. He wasn't angry. He was asking. His eyes lifted for a moment once she understood. Both pairs locked on one another and she knew he was still asking. He wouldn't voice it and he didn't have to.   
Despite the lump forming in her throat Polara still did her best to remain void of emotional reaction. Letting Kylo in just might have been scarier than having him barge in and take whatever he wanted. But what was fear, anyway? Her fingers curled underneath the hem of her sweater and she lifted it. It was just enough to show him the scar, show him the part of her that hurt so much. That's what he wanted to see.   
The scar stretched across her skin, deep and dark. It ran from her side to her navel and stopped in an angry discolored lump right below it. The longer it was exposed, the less anxious Polara felt.   
"Blaster shot. Tore through my skin pretty deep. I got really familiar with a medic droid for a while." In an attempt to gauge his reaction she looked at his face. She searched every inch of it for the slightest hint of readable sentiment. There was nothing that she could recognize there. Her hands pulled down the sweater and covered her skin after a few seconds of silence. Only then did his eyes lift back to her face. One corner of her lips lifted into a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Let me let you in."   
Maybe it was the sensitive nature of this moment, or even the fact that she'd managed to remain relatively calm throughout the experience. Whatever happened, it was enough to change the way the air felt around Polara. It was the exact opposite of the cloud of anxiousness she'd been wrestling with all night. It was peaceful and warm. Different.   
Commander Ren's large leather-bound hand lifted and took Polara's chin between his thumb and forefinger. The movement was slow, but not entirely soft. He stared down at her as he held her face, and only let go after he felt no more of the emotions she'd come to him with. "Return to your quarters, Calrissian."


	7. Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara takes control of a mission and it backfires. You could say she's hyperfocused...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I adopted a kitten and then he proceeded to claw my eyeball. Recovering from a cornea abrasion. Anyway, ENJOY!

Very little made Polara happier than where she was now. Onboard a ship headed toward her home gas planet, Cloud City awaiting her return. She anticipated a smooth trip, and she'd already run through the exact plan with her crew. They were pros at this run by now, and it was by far their easiest one that they were assigned. As she stared out at the galaxy that sprawled out before them, there was a knowing smile on her face.   
Now that she and her designated crew had many completed missions under their belt, there was no reason to report to General Hux before they set out. She'd earned his trust, though he'd never really said as much. She'd earned Commander Ren's as well. Perhaps she'd earned more than that. Certainly not his affection, he still breezed by Polara like he didn't even recognize her in most cases. But she sensed it. In the same way he picked up on her every emotion, she could pick up on what was happening between them. Maybe. When it came to Kylo Ren he made sure she was never certain about what he was thinking. He could read her mind but it didn't work in reverse.  
"Calrissian," came the voice of one of her crew members, Denzin. "We're scheduled to land in five. Straight to the mine." She nodded at Denzin in response. Everything was unfolding according to plan. But as Polara had come to learn, no plan is ever perfect. There were too many outlying factors, too much meddling.   
The ship docked right on time and Polara exited with confidence. Every stride came with purpose and ease. With Orin out of the picture, it was easy to complete the deal. Polara orchestrated the exchange of the credits and Denzin was responsible for leading both crews during the loading of the gas. There was never trouble and the exchange took around an hour to be completed. None of those facts changed on this run, it was as smooth as their hyperdrive had been. In fact, Polara had decided that after their flawless run she'd offer both crews a round at her old stomping grounds.   
It was a Cloud City cantina that had certainly seen better days. It wasn't like the more glamorous spots. No gambling areas, no gold and glitz. Just your run of the mill cantina with drinks too strong and patrons too loud. That's how Polara liked it. The atmosphere was one where no one could be fussed to eavesdrop on others. A lot of the planning she and her old gas mining crew had done took place right there. In a back corner booth, huddled together and slightly slurry. As they walked into the cantina she was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Not that she missed Bespin. The outskirts of Cloud City and the old mine weren't anything she longed for. Now that she'd become acclimated to the cold of Ilum, Polara knew that was where she belonged. In Starkiller Base, serving The First Order. That nostalgia was more of a respect and reflection of where she'd come from. How she had risen from the slums and found herself in good favor with General Hux. In good favor with Commander Ren.   
Her thoughts were disturbed once her eyes settled on a particularly rowdy trio. All of them men, laughing and shouting to their heart's content, and spilling drinks as they did so. It wasn't any of this that intrigued Polara. Loud patrons were expected here. It was one of the three men in particular that had her fixated. She just couldn't break her stare away from him. The rest of the crew were getting their drinks but Polara just couldn't focus on anything but him. She knew that man. That damned hood and pathetically unkempt facial hair were burned into her memory. He'd done his best to chat her up and intimidate her on that shit to Ilum. He still looked just as unpleasant as he had on her trip to the icy planet.   
She felt it. Her chest began to heat and her lip curled as she stared at the man. His hood was atrocious, it felt as though he were mocking everyone around him, like he was hiding some disappointing secret under it. One that surely no one would ever care for. Even his bragging sounded smug as it rang throughout the cantina.   
"You coming?" asked Denzin. Polara didn't break her gaze when she answered.  
"Sure. I'll be there. Just give me a moment,"   
It wasn't Denzin's fault. He hadn't known her long enough to experience that annoying need she had, that gnawing want for retaliation. She'd promised herself that the next time she saw him she'd have his head. Polara didn't break promises.   
Grey eyes narrowed as she strode over to the table the trio was dishonoring with their presence. Her hands were already fists and she could feel her breathing begin to pick up. She stopped only when she had approached the table, and the patrons hadn't even noticed her arrival. One of the other men, some disgrace with a mop of stringy hair who was in the middle of a story, reached out to show off the distance he'd shot from. It landed against Polara's arm, and that's when they finally took notice.  
"Oh, yes love, can we get another round?" he asked. She was fuming before but now she was reaching startling levels of anger.   
"Touch me again and you'll lose your hand before you can withdraw it." Her tone was cold and her stare didn't waver from her real target. That hooded scoundrel.   
At first the men all stared at her in disbelief. Then an eruption of laughter came from the two companions of the hooded man. At this point, Polara could have sworn her purple curls were turning into flames. But her focus was still on him, so she couldn't be bothered to check. It was a stare down soaked with loathing and disdain and neither of them had broken just yet.   
"Fellas," the hooded man began, "We have ourselves a wannabe stormtrooper. Caught her on the ride to Ilum looking for Commander Ren. Surprised he hasn't put an end to her yet."   
As three pairs of eyeballs looked her up and down she could feel her teeth grinding. How dare he even mention the Commander? And her, a stormtrooper hopeful?   
"I see you don't have your white suit on, darling. Didn't make the cut?"  
Polara's eyes finally averted, darting down to her boots. The blaster she'd stolen from the body of Orin was hidden in there.  
When she glanced back up she gave him a smirk. "You desperately want me to be alone and helpless, don't you? What for, scoundrel? I hardly think anyone like you could save a porg, or anything else for that matter."   
His face changed. That jawline tightening, lips pressed into a frown. He shifted in his seat and leaned into the table, reaching up to pull back his hood. Polara was correct. The secret he was hiding under that hood was nothing more than underwhelming. Not even the cuts and bruises across his face made him interesting to look at.   
"Yeah, princess? And who'll be here to save you now?" He stood from his seat and slowly approached her. This was his game, he liked intimidating people. Polara was not one to be intimidated easily, and not now while she was armed. As the man towered over her she didn't even bother looking up at him. He didn't deserve it.   
"The problem is that you think I need saving. Who saves you?" Her head tilted to the side slightly, ready to act without so much as a plan of attack. She reached out and pushed the man with all of her strength, arms stiff and forceful as she did so. He'd clearly been surprised by the action, he'd stumbled backward into the table, spilling drinks all over himself and his friends. Before he could scramble back to his feet Polara had bent down and retrieved the blaster from her boot. She pointed it at him, standing strong and still as confident as ever. She knew he would come toward her, probably lunge to try and get control of the weapon, and he did. He moved to reach out and take the blaster, but Polara's reflexes were quicker. She fired it, one bright bolt flying right at his neck. It was a direct hit that sent him to his knees. His buddies watched in shock and stood quickly to go to his aid.   
From behind her Polara heard the voice of Denzin once again. "What are you doing?!" he shouted. It broke her attention. She turned to look at her crew member and reassure him that she had this under control. That's when she felt it. The blow to the face from one of those greasy scoundrels. It hit her like lightning, a sharp and painful shock that went all the way through her body. She hadn't even realized that she'd fallen to the ground. At least not until she came to her senses and felt the sting on her hands and knees.   
Denzin hurried to her side, prepared to defend her. The rest of her crew were rising from their seats as well.   
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Denzin asked the pair.   
"Are you kidding me, she shot him! She deserves more than what she's got!"   
Another punch was thrown, this time by Denzin. And that was what started the brawl. It wasn't just the trio anymore. Patrons were lining up to defend whoever this man was. Some of them were simply observing and sipping their drinks. Others were cheering for a resolution. Those who chose to fight were a blur of fists and elbows.   
Polara was still on the floor, blinking to try and shake the fog in her brain. Clearly she hadn't thought this one through. This was what he meant. Kylo. When he told her to control her emotions, control her anger. Of course she ended up in a situation like this one. As she found her way back to her feet Polara pointed her blaster at one of the brawlers she didn't recognize, but it was knocked from her hands as someone pushed her backward. She stumbled and fought to stay steady so that she could grab the weapon, but wasn't fast enough. Instead she fell backward into the bar, feeling broken glass poke into her back. A man with stubby fingers and dirty nails grabbed it and pointed it at the nearest target and fired. One of her dedicated crew from Starkiller Base.   
Her emotions were overwhelming and she was fighting to control what she felt. Polara wasn't even sure what it was she was feeling. With a screech she lunged at the shooter and began to throw any limb she could into him. Knees, boots, elbows and fists were wildly chucked. She'd never claimed to win battles with her physical ability, and this was a testament to that. Whatever she was doing, it was working. The man was stumbling backward and trying to get away from the assault. Polara quickly grabbed hold of the wrist attached to the hand holding the blaster and sank her teeth into it. Hard, as deeply as she could get her teeth into the skin. He yelped and dropped the blaster, and for good measure she clenched her teeth down once more. The unmistakable copper taste of blood was on her tongue as she let go and bent to retrieve her blaster.   
Her confidence returned once it was in her hands again. With little hesitation she aimed and fired at someone who had Denzin in a headlock. It didn't hit the guy, but it was enough of a scare to ensure he was released. Upon his escape he shouted a loud "Run!" and made for the door. Polara gripped her blaster tightly as she made a run for it as well. Most of her crew was in tow behind her as they escaped the cantina. All of them except for one. The one who had been shot at by her own weapon. They fled back to the outskirts where the gas mine and ship awaited. No one had bothered to follow them, but they weren't taking any chances. Visibly shaken, Polara did her best to finish out the mission she'd actually been sent on. She'd said goodbye to the gas mine crew and ensured they had their blasters at the ready just in case anything else happened. With The First Order's Tibana gas, a very achy right eye, a few cuts and one less crew member, they boarded the ship and set off back to Ilum.   
For once, Polara wasn't so excited to get back to base. She would be in a life threatening amount of trouble once she returned. They didn't have to report to the Commander and General before leaving on missions, but reporting once they got back was protocol. Denzin was a wonderful pilot and a well respected man around Starkiller Base. But that didn't mean he was going to lie and protect her. Polara would have to explain why they lost a crew member, and why the remaining crew looked like they'd been to battle. The shame she was feeling already was enough to make her ill but something else lingered in her thoughts. Surely she'd have a black eye by morning. The thought of facing her superiors with a black eye was enough shame to last her for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, she knew the thoughts weren't nearly as bad as it would actually be. As she reached up to touch her swollen eye she glanced over at Denzin apologetically. He signed softly and offered her a deep nod before turning his attention to the stars once again. Remorse. An emotion she'd have to wrestle with on the ride back. 


	8. Sleep to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polara must face the consequences of her actions back in Cloud City, and it isn't going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive my lack of posting, depression hits hard in the fall and winter. Enjoy!

The fallout from the botched mission was just as awful as Polara had imagined it would be. The entire trip back to base had been filled with anxiety, dread, and even some conjuring of excuses to have at the ready. The excuses bit was given the axe before they landed. When she had a commander who could basically drink the emotions from her mind there was no use in trying to wiggle her way out of anything.   
Now, she sat before General Hux and Commander Ren taking the verbal beating she'd earned. Her head hung in embarrassment and shame, back stiff, and fingers digging into her dress.   
"How could you allow this to happen? We allow you to lead an entire crew and ask you to do a single task, Calrissian. This is what we get in return?" Polara wasn't sure what was worse: the snark in his tone or the disgust on his face. She didn't need to see it to know it was there. She'd been in this room listening to the two of them long enough to know these questions were rhetorical. "At least you had the wit about you to ensure the gas made it back safely, though I wouldn't trust you with the same now. It's the very least you could do after causing a scene in some scum filled cantina and costing us a dutiful member of The First Order."  
Commander Ren remained quiet for most of the berating, and she couldn't even gather the guts to look up and make sure he was still there. He was. She could sense it.   
"Well Commander Ren, what do you suppose we do with her? Discard of her ourselves and let another complete her scheduled missions? Turn her into Snoke for proper punishment? I'm willing to bet he'd have some great ideas of how to handle an insubordinate."  
Kylo stayed silent for a moment longer, but she could hear his footsteps as he walked closer toward her. He stopped, and the silence was broken at last.  
"No," he answered calmly. He knelt near her and the mask hid his true expression, but his tone was icy enough to give her a clue. "You're lucky, Calrissian. Lucky that you find yourself in a position where we need your skills, abysmal as they may be. Our disappointment with you is truly immeasurable. We should turn you over to our Supreme Leader."   
Polara swallowed down at this statement. She'd surely be dead if that was her fate. Commander Ren stood once more and made his way back to General Hux's side.   
"As unsatisfactory as her performance may be, we still need a steady supply."  
"And we haven't got the staff to carry that task out, Commander?" Hux replied.   
"Not if we want it done correctly."  
"Commander, I'd hardly call what Calrissian has done correct. It wasn't even competent."   
Kylo allowed the silence to return to the room. Polara could feel his stare but she didn't dare look up at him.   
"We still got our supply. In a timely manner, and it was all accounted for. Lives are disposable, a guaranteed delivery of important supplies is not." Commander Ren's footsteps echoed in the room as he paced, in what she assumed to be thought. "A three week suspension. All of her missions will be overseen by someone else if need be. The pilot, perhaps. We send her for loyalty conditioning and any further training you deem necessary. Once we've determined she's fit to complete her duties once again she can return to her job."   
"Are you kidding?" Hux asked him in his signature monotone voice. "Why don't we just send her back out now then, let her be as reckless as ever. If lives are so disposable, shall we send you with her this time?"  
"No." Kylo's tone was angry, filled with... Rage? "She's clearly incapable of even keeping her own crew alive. She's useless without reconditioning. Three weeks."  
General Hux fell into silence this time. While she awaited any further debate her mind began to spiral. This is what he thought of her. Unworthy, unloyal, useless. As she instinctively blinked back tears her swollen eye sent a wave of pain through her entire head. She winced and hissed, trying not to draw any further attention to herself and all the damage she'd done.   
"Very well. Commander Ren, it's your responsibility to assure that she's had her conditioning. This mess is yours to clean."   
The sound of leather gloves crinkling under the pressure of fists was one she knew well. She focused on it as she waited for anyone to say anything else. I need to go.   
The Commander's head snapped up and finally, so did Polara's. He heard her. Of course he did, he always did.   
"See to it that you've visited the medic bay upon your exit. I will assign the rest at 0500. Await your instructions in your quarters. Leave."   
Polara sat frozen for moment, hesitant to leave just in case this was some sort of trick. She stared at that damned helmet as she stood and turned to leave. She'd never walked faster, and her footsteps weren't taking her to the medic bay as Kylo had told her. She needed the comfort and the solitude of her quarters. Her sacred place where no one dared to disturb her. Her head was aching, her eyes stinging with tears, one eye in particular throbbing. She could even feel the weird cracking of a fresh, half-clotted cut on her back. A shower, maybe. It would probably burn like hell but nothing could feel any worse than the words the Commander had spat at her. Polara expected that from General Hux but from Kylo? She'd thought perhaps he knew her better. That was foolish of her.  
Polara rushed through the door of her quarters and leaned against the nearest wall. Her chest was now joining in on the fun, burning as her lungs filled and deflated entirely too quickly. She looked down at her shaky hands and examined all of the scrapes on them. The realization that she'd royally screwed up was crashing down on her. As her stomach turned she slid down the wall, back searing with pain even after she'd hit the floor. Her arms wrapped around her knees and she stayed there, cradling herself as she attempted to make sense of everything that had happened. Thoughts were a jumbled mess in her head and her ears were ringing. Panic was washing over her slowly and there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it. But something else did.   
The sound of her door flinging open and heavy footsteps jerked her back to the present. It was Commander Ren, a black mass through the tears welling in her eyes. His helmet was gone and his face was laced with impatience. His outstretched hand force slammed the door shut behind him and Polara scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could.   
"Is this what you wanted? What you were after? You wanted to be my responsibility?" His teeth were clenched tightly as he spoke but the words were somehow still clear to her.   
"You didn't have to agree to that. You could have just sent me to Snoke and--"  
"And WHAT," he snarled back. He'd closed in on her and was leaning down, his face terrifyingly close to hers. "If I sent you there you wouldn't keep your life."  
"Wouldn't you rather be rid of me? I'm useless, right? Aren't lives disposable? You could have said no."   
This sentence must have ignited a fire that could only have been doused by walking away. That's exactly what he did as he curled his fists. In a whirlwind of black he turned his back to her.   
"You could have completed your mission and come back to base. You knew you shouldn't have done it. Once again, you've proven to me that you do not have control over your emotions," his breathing picked up as he spoke, and his voice grew louder. Something about the slight growl to it made everything feel even more awful.   
"Commander, he threatened me on my way to Starkiller Base, he-"  
Polara jumped as she watched Kylo slam his fist into the wall. All she could do was hang her head and stare at her own boots.   
"You lied to me when you told me that The First Order is your priority?" he asked. The question made Polara's stomach churn. Things were different now, everything had changed, but she still just couldn't let go.   
"Yes," she began against her better judgement. There was no reason to lie to him, no reason to waste her breath. "At first. But that's not true anymore, I've dedicated myself to The First Order and I've done nothing but put my life on the line for it. I am loyal. I will do whatever I must to carry out our vision for the galaxy."  
Polara lifted her head when no response came. Her eyes wandered across Commander Ren's back, observing his stance. His shoulders were rounded, his head turned to the side but still hidden by his hood. She could only see one tuft of his dark hair sticking out. The silence felt forceful enough to crush her skull, and though she tried she just couldn't hold back her thoughts any longer. _'What have I done? Is he actually going to have my head like that asshole said? What was he, some kind of prophet? He deserved to die with the way he spoke to me. Is he going to say anything?'_  
Her racing thoughts were finally broken by the loud booming of her commander's voice.   
"You've not even attempted to complete the orders you've been given. Insubordinate. Go to the medic bay. NOW. Once you've been seen return to your quarters and await instructions. Consider this the start of your suspension."   
He didn't even turn to look at her as he spoke or before he stormed out of her quarters. He was simply gone, just as fast as he'd come.   
The lump forming in her throat gave her warning she was about to cry, but with a swollen eye and a headache unlike any other she'd had, she wasn't going to give in. Polara made a quick detour to a refresher on her way to the medic bay. Of course she wasn't going to disobey any orders she was given, not when he was already this angry. Once she was able to stop and glance into a mirror she was somehow even more defeated. Her eye looked downright terrifying, and as she turned with her back facing the mirror she could see the damage done there. A mostly still fresh cut ran over her shoulder blade, and her dress was slit to go right along with it. Her armor had been cracked. With a shaky exhale, she fought back the tears still threatening to spill as she thought. Her fingers gripped at the wall to help keep her steady while her head was busy spinning with thoughts. Kylo Ren was not who she thought he was, not who she had grown to know. He was not her friend, he was simply another official bossing her around. To him she knew she was nothing more than someone to bark orders at. Their glances, their touches, they all meant nothing.   
Her mind repeated these things as Polara walked toward the medic bay, reminding herself that there were no exceptions to the fact she'd known her whole life. No one could be trusted. They were never who they said they were.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my story! Polara is a character dear to my heart and her story is SO important to me. To go along with this story, there's a playlist. Each chapter is named after a song that I believe goes perfectly with the content of said chapter. Think of the songs as "end credit" songs. Obviously, the first track on the list is an overarching theme. Thanks again! xo
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7E9JQUSEhzfBe04tHg3IZr?si=3d5bLgxJQaeEe6QB5oeW-g


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